The Choice of a New Generation


It's coming to a community near you, much like the aplomb and excitement one experiences with a Hollywood summer blockbuster. But this be a blockbuster of a different sort. This is a real block buster. The blocks to be busted are to be you, the youth of your local community and mine. The sledgehammer doing the busting? The Universal National Service Act. Welcome to how to build a Gulag Nation 101.

The bill itself and the language contained therein are easy to understand. All too easy, even for me. Section Two clearly states: "a) OBLIGATION FOR YOUNG PERSONS - It is the obligation of every citizen of the United States, and every other person residing in the United States, who is between the ages of 18 and 26 to perform a period of national service as prescribed in this Act unless exempted under the provisions of this Act." The italics are mine. Every, not much thought required here, means all. I smell a New World order in the air, don't you?

What the bill really says then is that ALL people within the borders of the united States between aged 18 to 26 WILL, corporate citizen or not, perform a period of military or national service. Least that's my guess.

You have three choices. And we love freedom of choice! You will be conscripted and you will serve, or you will go to jail, or you will move. The choices here then are well defined. You are however, no matter what, damned if you do and damned if you don't. Some choices. Either accept involuntary servitude as a military or community slave, doing as you're told or accept involuntary servitude as a prisoner in a corporate jail, doing as you're told, or move, which in this case means go live someplace else. Sounds like the youth of Amerika have clear choices to me. You have the freedom to choose either door number 1, door number 2 or door number 3. No matter, big, huge pile of shit awaits behind one of those doors.

Hopefully to the sound and reasoned youngsters reading this, the choices listed herein should dispel any and all notions that you live in a free society. You don't, and as another matter of fact, never have. Neither have I.

Scoff at that now if you must, and in the meantime download all the MP3's you want, for now. In just a scant year or two, you won't be able to take a piss without being told when, where and how! Or which dissidents to round up and ship off to Mississippi. Or which group of people you are ordered to fire upon. Your liberty, thanks to your parents, grandparents, great-grandparents who were asleep at the wheel of the charge they were given, has been rounded up too, exhausted, used up and wasted away, to be swept up and dumped unceremoniously into the ash can of history. Freedom in the united States means obviously you do have a choice. Do or don't and accept the consequences either way. Pardon the pun, but you'll have to accept the ramifications, 'cause you're f*cked any way you go! Get it, ram-ifcations? You will either be in the military killing whoever you're told, in the national service corps arresting and jailing your fellow countrymen, in jail 'cause you got caught while on the run, and you reject slavery, and now as a result are very near to receiving your first prison communion or your first hot beef injection compliments of your captors, or you are in Mexico and are lucky 'cause you haven't got caught yet.

Please, whatever you do, do not accept jail as an option. Being that you are f*cked no matter which way you choose, and having seen HBO's OZ and the movie the Shawshank Redemption, there is absolutely no reason to subject your anus to additional violation. Look, you kids are already fucked, so there is no reason to compound that with actual forced rape by your captors. The pictures from Abu Grahib say enough. Stay out of jail. Don't get caught!

I suggest you move, or run, as some of the more esteemed crew-cutted of our society might call it. If you move, or run as some would call it, keep in mind you will become a fugitive. If you get caught, you'll be f*cked, figuratively and literally. Those who willingly get f*cked . . . err, serve, will be, ironically, the ones to come after you. I'm not sure what quality of life one can have constantly looking over their shoulder, so moving is a tough call. But it has to be a damn sight better than willingly submitting to slavery. I seriously doubt that you will be allowed to move back home one day like the people that moved to Canada during the Vietnam Conflict were. You won't be welcomed back. The War on Terror is different than a war on gooks. In the War on Terror, everything is a threat, including that nice neighbor lady down the street who still gave you cookies even after you carelessly broke her kitchen window with your baseball. You gonna point your weapon at her, big man? The war on gooks was simply that, kill the gooks, most for no reason. You may never be forgiven for abandoning your country in a time of such need. We all know Al-Qaeda is brimming with feeble, blue-haired terrorists. My soon-to-be 16-year old has already decided he's moving.

If you serve when drafted next year, keep this thought close in your heart and in your mind. Patrick Henry was a great man, an eloquent speaker, and a true American hero. He, of course, is the one who asked the Virginia Legislature in 1776 which was sweeter, liberty or death. We will, at the moment our Lord calls us, all experience the wonder and amazement of our passing to the next life. It is a special journey reserved for each and every one of us. But liberty is not, for it is not experienced by all. Very few in the course of human history have or ever will experience the sweetness of true liberty. Shit, most won't even be able to grasp it. Liberty in the united States has been boiled down to the statutory code and a hardy hi-yo Silver, the ballot box, the 11 o'clock news and a high school civics class. Whoopee! Freedom has been achieved for all. Meanwhile back at the ranch, someone mentions liberty and everybody looks at each other like a bunch of f*ckin' doofuses and says, "Gee, what does that mean?"

Freedom and liberty are not the same thing.

I think what liberty means is that there are still people out there who would rather be physically dead, preferring be with their Creator and His Son, than live under the yoke of totalitarianism, oppression and evil. That liberty means there are still people out there who would rather fight to the death than be humiliatingly stuffed in an oven, or cowardly shot in the back of the head while blindfolded and in front of their loved ones, and then dumped into a mass grave of other p*ssies, as 20 million were lucky to experience in the former Soviet Union. I think that what liberty means is that there are still a few folks who believe that "the tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants alike."

Do you suppose there were a minority of Germans or Russians who spoke this way prior to the usurpations of their liberties by Hitler and the SS? How fast do you suppose they got rounded up and shipped off? Maybe the were just shot on sight. Or was it more likely the masses simply leaned back in their chairs, clasped their hands behind their heads and said, "Better them than me!" Trust me, a few more hellish years on earth to live amongst them, and at the absolute mercy of tyrants, doesn't register much against the clock of eternity.

I think if you decide to serve and essentially take up arms against your fellow countrymen, then you should know a few things. Some of those folks out in TV Land will not go quietly, and they won't go alone! They won't let you stuff 'em in ovens and they won't let you shoot 'em in the head without protesting just a tad. Shit, given half a chance, most of 'em might want to personally take you with 'em! Many are more than understanding and quite aware that, in the grand scheme of things, their time on this earth is but that of a vapor on a breezy day. Listen up man, Time magazine had an article a few years back that said the Universe itself would most likely last another 10 trillion, trillion years. That is a long time to be dead! Yes indeed, that eternity thing is surely a long time, and as things go, it is comforting knowing that there are more than a few people in this world ready to defend to the death their personal property and liberty against the tyranny of encroachment, fear and intimidation, martial law and murder at the hands of the state.

Soon, the choice of a new generation will come to this: serve, go to jail, or move. I'm "old school," as the kids say, and not part of the new generation, yet I too have choices. So never raise a weapon at me, and you'll never have to worry about the choices I've decided to make. I'll never be put in an oven, or lined-up to be executed in front of my family, then dropped in a hole. If push comes to shove, I don't plan on going alone, either.

So, if I were you, I'd move.

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David C. Moorman's picture
Columns on STR: 9

David C. Moorman is a struggling professional landscape designer who recently went into business for himself on account no one can stand working with the guy. To help make ends meet and to keep his old lady off his back, he is a part-time corporate liaison for a large conglomerate specializing in the logistics of specialty (Italian-American) food distribution. As previously mentioned, he is married to a Puerto Rican version of Attila the Hun, but he still feels love much the way a dog that is relentlessly kicked by his master does. The writer has two wonderful children, although their names escape him at the moment. The writer has no hobbies or anything else in life that he enjoys, sans for one thing . . . The Oakland Raiders